Missing Persons
by Aiyanabell
Summary: [[Sequal to SIMON SAYS]] My name is Samantha Manson, and I am an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, more commonly known as the F.B.I. I'm here to tell you my story, about how my world got turned upside down...again! [[FULL SUMMARY inside]]


**Authors note: Hey, everyone! I know this has taken forever. I thought I was going to post up the sequel to SIMON SAYS ages ago, but school started and I just could never find the time to think up plot lines and twists and things to make the story interesting. I came to a dead end with THE FUGITIVE; so, I decided that instead of wallowing in my writer's block, I would come up with a new story for you wonderful readers.**

**For everyone who hasn't read SIMON SAYS, it is not necessary to understand this next story, but is recommended. SIMON SAYS is the beginning of Samantha Manson's hectic and terrifying experiences as she works as an FBI agent in a new city: Amity Park. **

**Warning: This story might end up with twists dealing with the war on terror, or the war on drugs, meaning Unit 145 might be fighting drug abuse and terrorism. This is in fact what Federal Agents deal with on a daily basis, and I am trying to make this story as realistic as possible. **

**MISSING PERSONS FULL SUMMARY: **

**It was a slow day, and so far unit 145 hadn't received any calls…  
Daniel and Samantha were heading out on a coffee run, when they notice an animal lying in the street. A car had obviously hit it…the poor thing. Samantha ran out in the street, to see that it was a dog…its leash still attached to it's collar. **

**Little did they know that finding this poor puppy will lead them into a roller coaster of a case…within FBI jurisdiction! **

* * *

My name is Samantha Manson, and I am an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, more commonly known as the FBI.

The story I'm about to tell you is pretty long...but since you're willingly taking time out of your day to sit on your ass and read stories like this, I guess you won't really mind. (I...probably shouldn't have wrote that...you never know who reads these things.) The difference between this story and all the others, however, is this story is true. It actually happened. To me.

I guess I'll start at the beginning...No. Before the beginning…Before we ever spotted an animal in the road, or decided to follow up on it and call the owner. Before my world was turned upside down…again.

"Oh, Sam! I can't believe we've both been in Amity Park for months and didn't even know it!" My best friend from high school cooed, taking a sip of her cappuccino. I grinned. She was still as enthusiastic as ever. People would think that perky people annoyed me, and most of the time they did…but not Liz, I knew her too long for that.

"And then…randomly bumping into each other in a coffee shop! How weird is that?"

"Pretty Weird. So tell me, Liz…what do you do now?" I asked her. Liz wiped the foam off of her upper lip with a napkin.

"I'm an interior designer." She told me. This made me smile, since that's exactly what Liz always said she wanted to be. I looked down at my cup to see that I had finished my soy vanilla late. "Hey, I'm going to go get a refill…and I spotted some blueberry scones up at the counter that looked amazing, I'll buy you one?" I offered, standing up.

Liz shook her head. "No…It's alright, I'm trying to lose a few more pounds for next week." I raised an eyebrow. Liz was skinny as a rail, and didn't need to lose any weight at all.

"Why?" I inquired.

"Oh, yes…I forgot to tell you! I can be an idiot sometimes. Do you remember Jeremy, from High school?"

"How could I forget." I replied dryly. Liz and Jeremy had been joined at the hip in high school. Or rather...Joined at the lip.

"Well, we're getting married, and our wedding is next week."

I sat back down, forgetting all about those blueberry scones.

"Really, that's great! Everyone always said you two would get married."

Liz smiled, before looking back up at me hopefully. "Actually, Sam…I would really like it if you could be in the wedding. You know…one of the bridesmaids. You were my best friend since 8th grade…"

I raised an eyebrow, reluctant. The idea of walking up the aisle in a fancy dress before a friend I haven't seen in three years didn't seem all that appealing to me. Besides, I probably wouldn't know anybody there…

Liz seemed to read my mind. "Of course, you would know a few people there. Jeremy invited a few of his high school buddies. And you remember Dash, and Paulina? They'll be there too"

Any though of me actually going to this wedding suddenly dropped through the floor and disappeared. Dash and Paulina? They were not exactly on my 'favorite people' list.

Liz looked at me with such hope in her eyes. "Please…Please Sam??? I've missed you so much, and this is going to be the most magical day of my life. I really want you to be a part of it."

I looked at her warily for a moment, before sighing.

"Hey, Liz?"

"Yeah Sam?"

"What color are the bridesmaids dresses?"

"Purple."

"I'm In."

* * *

"A Wedding? That's great! If you've been her friend for so long…" Valerie said with a smile as we exited the elevator of the FBI headquarters when it reached the eighth floor.  
"I know, and I know it's a good thing that I'm going to see my best friend get married, but par t of me really doesn't want to go. People I hated from high school will be there…"

Valerie sighed, shaking her head. "And you'll go anyway, because you're strong and sensible Sam Manson, who doesn't care what other people think about her."  
I sighed, and knew that she was right, and that I had to go. I pushed open the door to Unit 145's room.

"Yeah…"

"Do you know that an Ostriches eye is bigger than it's brain?" Came the sound of Danny's voice. We both looked up at him like he had six heads.

"That…was really random."

Danny grinned, holding up his bottle of Iced Tea, and the bottle cap. "Useless facts. They installed a Snapple machine down the hall. It's kind of funny, actually.

Tucker smiled widely, tossing a bottle to me. "What have you got, Sam?"

I raised an eyebrow before popping open the bottle, Violet eyes scanning the underside of it.

"Um…100 people choke on ballpoint pens every year." Everybody began to chuckle at that, except for Charlie, who looked up incredulously.

"What, that can't be right!" He said, shaking his head. I shrugged.

"It's what they say."

He grumbled. "Who _is_ 'They', anyway?"

We all rolled our eyes at him, and Valerie popped open her Snapple bottle.

"It looks like you need a hunting license to catch a mouse in Cleveland, Ohio."

"It's illegal to push a moose out of a moving vehicle in some provinces in Canada."

"Gum chewing is strictly prohibited in the city of Singapore."

"First Toilet ever seen on television was featured in Leave it to Beaver."

Charlie's eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked up at us with an expression difficult to describe.

"Nonsense. Complete Nonsense. How can someone figure out all of this…idiocy!"

We chuckled at him, shaking our heads. "They're just Snapple bottles, Charles. Loosen up!"

Daniel stood up, brushing off his suit jacket. "I'm gonna go make a coffee and fast food run, since it doesn't look like we've got a case this morning. Anybody want to join?"

I raised my hand warily. "I'll go."

I grabbed my black coat and pulled it over my dark blue top, straightening it before heading out the door with him, but not before I heard the sound of Tuckers Voice.

"Hey, do you know that the Mona Lisa has no eyebrows?" He said, looking up from his Snapple cap with a smile.

Charlie eyed him warily.

"You're a lost cause."

* * *

**Authors note: Short, I know. But it's the first chapter…and take in mind that these stories will be short…as they are part of a series-like-thing. **

**This chapter was uneventful, but I brought in the wedding so that our little Samantha will get to deal with people from her past. This should be exiting. The useless facts thing was just a little humor, to show that the Amity Ville FBI is just like a regular workplace when they have no place to be. Stay tuned for chapter two!**


End file.
